Kindly Unspoken
by simplyshelbs16
Summary: It took a while before real conversations began transpiring between them again. Read through the hurt, the rekindled friendship, the fluff, and the humorous situation that leads to Sherlock and Molly's blooming relationship.
1. Silence

It's funny how silence can speak louder than words. One moment, you're forcing each other to say 'I love you,' and the next, you fall back into a quiet companionship two weeks later. They never spoke to one another, but an understanding was reached, nonetheless. Sherlock would work quietly in the lab whilst Molly filled out paperwork. They examined a couple of corpses without so much as a nod. Mycroft had informed Molly of all that transpired at Sherrinford despite Sherlock's wishes, but it made things less awkward between them.

Of course, all of that changed a month later. It started off with simple 'hellos' and 'goodbyes,' eventually graduating to small talk. This would seem to be a normal development except for the fact that it was widely known that Sherlock hated small talk. Regular conversation ensued after the incident in which Molly had lost her footing in the lab. She had grabbed the counter he was sitting at to catch herself, but instead brought an empty glass flask down with her. It shattered on impact, some of the glass cutting her arm. It had all happened so fast, but Sherlock was by her side immediately.

"Molly!" his voice was filled with panic. He lifted her up in his arms and set her on the stool he had been sitting at. Upon inspecting her arm, there was no glass caught in it, but she had a couple of cuts. Nothing was said as he cleaned her wound, having learned from memory how she had cleaned his in the past.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I am," she replied. "Thank you." Silence. Then…

"I miss you." This was spoken in unison, his cerulean eyes meeting the deep brown of her own.

"I know it's been hard for you, Sherlock. I'm sorry for all that you've been through," Molly continued. "You probably thought I hated you. I could never. Despite it all, you're still my best friend. I understand why you had to make me say those words. You saved my life…or, at least, you thought you did."

"Do you—" he paused, wondering if he should finish his question. She clearly hadn't realized that he meant it. "Do you still love me?"

"Yes." It was just one word, but it meant the world to him in that moment.

"I need you to know, Molly, that I"— he took a deep breath—"I meant it." A small smile appeared on her face.

"I know," she admitted. "I would've never made you say it if you didn't love me back. I've known for a while now. It's just, I also knew you would need time to realize it, yourself." Sherlock looked bewildered. It would have been comical had the conversation not been so serious. "But you gave me no choice that day, Sherlock. I know it wasn't your fault, but at the time, I had no knowledge of that."

"I wish I was ready," he told her. "For you, for a real relationship."

"Don't rush yourself," Molly advised him. "I'm not going anywhere."

That day, he went home knowing that Molly Hooper was much more clever than he could ever be, in ways that he may never understand. It's terrifying when someone knows you better than you know yourself, but it didn't scare Sherlock. In fact, he felt more at peace that someone like Molly understood him that much when he spent his whole life around people who never understood him one bit.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I promise I'll finish To Love Like Fools. It's just that the inspiration for it has run dry and I'm desperately trying to get it back. In other news, February 11th is the 1 year anniversary of my first Sherlolly fic, and this fic is my 100th Sherlolly fic!


	2. Slip Up

Normally, this kind of setting would be an uncomfortable one for Sherlock. It would be unusual for anyone else to see him this way. But with Molly, it was as easy as solving a boring case without leaving his flat. They weren't at his place, however, but at hers. She had come home early, and quickly began dinner, eager to eat a home-cooked meal. Sherlock had asked if he could use her flat as a bolthole once more, but not for his usual reasons; he just wanted to spend more time with her.

They weren't together—not yet, anyways. It became routine for him to spend weekends with her. On this night, he had stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered, and in his pajamas. His bare feet almost silently padded across the floor toward the kitchen. Sherlock quickly learned that he could no longer sneak up on Molly anymore, as she always seemed to feel his presence lately.

"Dinner'll be ready in a bit, darling." Her words flowed easily, the term of endearment slipping before she could stop herself. She quickly pressed a hand to her mouth, realizing what she had just said, making awkward eye contact with Sherlock—well, awkward for her. He began to smile, then he laughed. It was a real laugh from deep within. It made her so happy to see and hear him like this, she couldn't help but laugh with him out of joy.

"Terms of endearment before the actual relationship begins?" he asked when he finally caught his breath. It had been weeks since their discussion in the lab, but it was understood how they felt about one another.

"Shut up, it just slipped," she giggled, throwing a hand towel at him.

"Alright, I'll let it go…darling," he added with a wink, stepping closer. "Sweetheart." Another step. He was in front of her, his eyes holding her gaze. "My love." His head bent close to hers, just a breath away from touching. "Molly." This was whispered before his lips pressed against hers with just enough pressure to send her heart into overdrive. It was firm, but oh so tender. And sweet. God, it was a slice of heaven. The familiar scent of him washed over her, the feel of his curls between her fingers was joy in itself. Their kiss deepened, Sherlock being eager to really taste her. Someone moaned, but Molly wasn't sure who. It could have been both of them.

His lips traveled down her jaw, back up to each cheek, and finally, her forehead. The feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around her made her want to hold on tighter, herself. The only sound was their breathing and the faint thrum of two hearts beating for each other.

"Sherlock—"

"I love you."

There it was. Those three words that caused them so much trouble months ago, but sounded like coming home. He made it clear that he was ready; for them, for a new beginning.

"I love you too."

* * *

"I will win this, Hooper," he told her, his competitive streak coming out.

"You better look out, then," she warned him.

"No fair!" Sherlock complained.

"It's Mario Kart, Sherlock," Molly laughed. "Banana peels are allowed." His pouty face kept her laughing longer. "You can't be great at everything!"

"I admit defeat," he sighed.

This was how their weekends were spent—just relaxing, playing games or watching murder documentaries where they competed to see who could solve the case first. Most of the time, they'd solve it together. After three weeks of this, John had become suspicious that Sherlock now took the weekends off from cases. No one was aware that he and Molly were now in a relationship, but neither of them cared to make it public. This was something that was just theirs. And that's how they planned to keep it for a while.

* * *

"Mycroft?"

"Doctor Watson," he nodded in acknowledgment. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Either Sherlock's gone off the deep end again or he's in a secret relationship," John blurted out.

"Really? As much as I loathe romantic entanglements, I do prefer it be the latter," Mycroft replied. "Let's see what we can find out, shall we?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** John and Mycroft are on the case! Lol!


	3. Operation Sherlolly?

"What's he doing?" Mycroft asked in disgust.

"He appears to be purchasing daisies," John told him. "It seems he's in a secret relationship, after all."

"Don't be so sure, Doctor Watson," the eldest Holmes replied. "I'll handle this."

John watched as Mycroft strolled out of hiding as if nothing was amiss. Obviously, the plan was to bump into Sherlock casually, but even the younger Holmes knew nothing was ever just casual with his big brother.

"Ah, brother mine, what brings you here?" Mycroft asked.

"I should ask you the same question," Sherlock replied.

"Are the daisies for Miss Hooper, by any chance?" he pried.

"No," Sherlock answered quickly. "I'm simply studying the pistil and stamen of these flowers. I'm experimenting." The flicker in his cerulean eyes was all Mycroft needed to see to know that Sherlock was lying.

"Not back on the sweeties then?" Mycroft inquired. It was at that moment that Sherlock's facial expression turned gravely serious.

"I am not who I once was. I would never go back to those habits…especially not after I've been going to rehab," Sherlock spoke lowly. "I would never put my friends and family through that kind of hell again, nor would I put myself through it."

Mycroft cleared his throat before speaking.

"Good to know, brother mine," he said simply. "But just for the record, you and Miss Hooper are okay?"

"Yes, we're fine," Sherlock answered. The conversation ended when the younger Holmes walked away. At least Mycroft now knew the two were in a relationship. Obviously, it was to be kept hush hush.

"Bye John," Sherlock called out from a short distance.

"How in the hell—?" John was baffled.

* * *

Molly was at the lab, using Sherlock's usual microscope, when the very same man entered.

"Hey, you!" she smiled happily. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing, really, but I believe my brother knows we're together," Sherlock replied.

"I guess we can't really keep this to ourselves for a while, can we?" Molly sighed.

"Apparently not, since John was with him when the discovery was made," Sherlock added. "Regardless, I'm more than happy to show our relationship off to my brother."

Molly giggled, her eyes lighting up as she noticed the bouquet of daisies in his hand.

"Are those for me?" she asked.

"All but two," he smirked.

* * *

"I'm tellin' ya they're at the lab, now come on," John told Mycroft. They quickly found their way to the room in question, stopping to greet Stamford before continuing their trek to the lab. Upon approaching the door, they heard Molly's voice.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "We should definitely experiment more!" Her voice…it sounded flirty.

"They're not—" Mycroft's face displayed nothing but shock.

"I hope not, otherwise, this will be awkward," John replied.

"What will be—don't open the door! What if they're—" the eldest Holmes quieted, noticing that the lights were off in the lab. Sherlock and Molly stood behind the microscope counter, holding two glowing daisies.

"Oh, hi, John!" Molly greeted him. "Mycroft." Another pause. "Look, we made our daisies glow!"

"I, uh, can see that, Miss Hooper," Mycroft replied. "So, the daisies really were for an experiment?"

"Yes, well, two of them were," Sherlock explained. "The rest are for Molly."

"Isn't he romantic?" Molly practically swooned.

"Uh, yeah, romantic," John remarked. "Look, we were just popping in to check on things. So, we'll just be going now."

"We will?" Mycroft asked. A quick elbow to his side from John and all was clear. "We will! Yes."

After the two exited, Sherlock and Molly began to laugh.

"You really think I'm romantic?" Sherlock asked in surprise.

"Definitely," Molly said softly, rising up on her toes to meet his lips with a tender kiss, her small hands cradling his face whilst her thumbs stroked his cheekbones. "I love you, Sherlock Holmes."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thanks for reading, y'all!


End file.
